Perhaps
by xxA9m2Y9xx
Summary: "That encounter had made him just as happy as it had made her, and for all the same reasons – she was sure of it. She hoped he knew that. She hoped that next time, she would become so exasperated that she would simply have to jump him, and she hoped that his shock would only last a second before he grabbed her and kissed her fiercely in return." RW/SM One-shot. T for language.


"You. Absolute. Asshat."

"Oh, what did I do now?"

"You know very well what you did!"

"Sweetie, I'm sorry to say – "

"Don't call me sweetie, you imbecilic, pathetic excuse for a human being."

"Your tone is dripping with ice, honey."

"Go shove a tree up your ass."

"Language."

"I couldn't speak yours if I tried. I don't speak Pompous Arse."

"What makes you think that I do?"

"The fact that you chose _my_ spot in the library for your date."

"Jealous, much? Anyway, what makes you think that was a date?"

"The fact that she was all over you and didn't have a single book within a mile of her."

"Actually, I was tutoring her. You know I do that, Rose, right?"

"Like I pay attention to whatever the fuck it is dick-wads like you do in their spare time."

"Well, you ought to – then you wouldn't have wasted all this time being jealous."

"I know Layla's an attractive young woman, but I'm not into that."

"Jealous of _her_."

"Oh, yes, I was very jealous. I've been aching to sit in _my_ spot all day, but she along with you clearly beat me to it."

"Would you like to sit on my lap to compensate?"

"I'm not even going to respond to that. Ew."

"You love me."

"I hate you."

"Well, it's one of the two."

"Definitely the latter."

"Sure, sure. Either way I'm sure it's mutual."

"You're the worst."

"And yet so charming."

"Oh honey, you really ought to use simpler language. The word you meant to say was '_infuriating – "_

"-_ly_ sexy."

"Ew. Gross gross gross gross gross."

"Saw your reflection in my eyes, did you?"

"Like I would ever look into those dull slabs of metal."

"Chilling description. How much time _do _you spend admiring my strong, aristocratic features?"

"Wouldn't you like to know…"

"Indeed. I was wondering if you yet qualified for a restraining order, love."

"Darling, I don't need a legal document to keep me away from you."

"Right – perhaps some protection from the Ministry would be the way to go? I've always wanted a bodyguard."

"No one else wants to be close to you, huh?"

"Fuck you."

"Sod off."

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Scorpius turned on his heel and walked away. Rose, arms crossed, gave an irritated huff before storming off in the opposite direction. The other students in the hallway parted like the Red Sea as they saw her icy scowl; Rose could have sworn she saw a first year trying to hide himself from her view.

After what seemed like an eternity – far too long to have to keep that well-rehearsed glare etched into her features – she made it to her dormitory.

"Troll Snot Pasties," she told the Fat Lady in a quite rushed manner before nearly gliding through the Gryffindor common room to the threshold of her own room, which she shared with three other (thankfully absent) girls. She stumbled a little and ended up toppling over with a yelp onto her conveniently placed four-poster bed.

Finally unquestionably alone, she relaxed her frown and let her face break out into the wide grin she'd kept hidden since her encounter with Scorpius in the hallway. She hugged her knees to her chest and giggled, nearly making herself sick with her own school-girlishness.

Well, what the hell. She did have the rest of the year to be a schoolgirl, anyway.

She always thought it was funny the way that people cowered from the scenes of her frequently loud confrontations with Scorpius. Couldn't they sense the playfulness behind her tone, the flirty lilt to his? The corners of her lips twitching, begging her to let them spread out into a smile; the softening of his face as he effortlessly uttered the words "sweetie" and "honey"?

Then again, that was easy for her to say when she looked avidly for those things, hoping they weren't her imagination. Perhaps he really did love to taunt her, wanted her grimaces to be authentic.

Perhaps he knew, and perhaps he thought it was hilariously stupid.

Rose leaned back and sank into her mattress, thoughtful for a moment. She closed her eyes and replayed what had just happened in her mind.

Once again with the knowledge that she ought to slap herself (if she weren't, well, herself), Rose turned over and buried her face in her pillow to keep herself from squealing giddily. She laughed, partially at herself and partially out of joy.

There was no way. That encounter had made him just as happy as it had made her, and for all the same reasons – she was sure of it. She hoped he knew that. She hoped that next time, she would become so exasperated that she would simply have to jump him, and she hoped that his shock would only last a second before he grabbed her and kissed her fiercely in return.

Then again, perhaps that wasn't how it would happen. Perhaps it would be better if one of their intermittent moments of candidness brought it about. Perhaps she would bite her lip, sitting alone in a corner of the library or the prefects' common room, and tell anyone who asked that she was fine. Perhaps he would come over, silently, and sit down next to her gently. Perhaps as she glanced at him she would find him staring back, letting his eyes ask the question. Perhaps she'd answer it.

Perhaps Rose would walk by him in the hallway as he kneeled to console a first year who was homesick, and she would feel a surge of appreciation for his kindness run through her. Perhaps the kid would hug him and skip happily away, and he would look up, startled by her standing there. Perhaps she would comment jokingly on what a surprise it was to see him be a decent person, and he would stand up, with an eyebrow arched suggestively, and walk towards her – closer than necessary – before whispering that she ought to give him a chance. Perhaps she would say quietly as she stared at his soft, pink lips that she had shared many a conversation with him, thank you very much, and that she had given him plenty of chances to make friends. Perhaps he would lean close, just an inch or two away, and say that wasn't the kind of chance he meant…before closing the distance entirely.

_Knock, knock._

Rose sat up from her bed with a start, coming back to reality. She got up and opened the door, her heart beating fast, and was stunned to see Scorpius himself. There he was: messy hair, disheveled tie. She noted the wild look in his eyes, the sleeves of his button-down that were cuffed at the elbows (just how she liked them), and as always the seductiveness of his lips.

"Scorpius, how – "

"Heads have access to all the Houses' common rooms in case of an emergency, you know that."

"Well, what the hell is the emergen – "

Before she could finish, he grabbed her waist with his hands and her lips with his. Without a second thought, she reached her arms around his neck, molding her body to his, and kissed him back with frustration, panic, passion, joy, love.

Perhaps that was all the answer that she needed.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks a lot for reading! (God, I hate exclamation points. But I want to be enthusiastic...) I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope it was an enjoyable read. Of course, review/favorite/follow (though this will probably stay a one-shot) if you feel at all compelled to, because I have a fifteen-year-old ego to inflate. Sorry. I'll shut up now.**


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